The Golden Melody
by xsirenxsongx
Summary: When Jake unexpectedly shows up at his school, life for Dirk is flipped upside down. Meanwhile, Dave struggles to find his identity within himself, forming a bond with an unlikely candidate in the process. Alternate Universe. Jake/Dirk and Dave/John. Work in progress. Rated T for language, violence, and possibly upcoming sexual themes.
1. Unexpected

He hardly noticed the sound of footsteps echoing in the hall. Or the gentle knock on the classroom door. In fact, even the noise and general hum of the class didn't bother him. It was the lack thereof that caught his attention.

Dirk glanced up from his notebook, curious as to what was going on. It was then he noticed the young man standing at the front of the room, speaking quietly with the teacher. Who was he? Before he could ponder that thought any further, the people around him burst into excited whispers.  
"New kid?"

"...cute!"

Mrs. Banks spoke a few words to him, then called out in an attempt to silence everyone. Her request had little effect, so she increased the volume of her voice. Eventually, she was audible over the static. "This is our new student." After those few words, the room fell silent again. "Go on," she urged the boy, "introduce yourself."

He blushed, fidgeting uncomfortably. "H-." He choked on his words, stuttering to a stop. That only seemed to fluster him more. Clearing his throat, he tried again, this time with much more gusto. "Hello..."

_Wow._ The more Dirk looked at him, the more he realized his classmates were right. _He's adorable._ His messy, dark hair looked as if he'd tried to cut it himself before settling on styling it. Two dorky buck teeth were set in his serious overbite. His eyes- though he couldn't quite make out what color they were through his shades- seemed to pierce through everything they glanced at. And his thick accent... Dirk sat there for a moment just listening to the tone of his voice as he began to answer questions.

After a bit, he tuned in to what the young man was saying. He was sixteen and had a pet dog. He just recently moved. He came from an island somewhere off the coast of Australia. Basic introduction stuff, although Dirk had to admit that the tidbit about the island was rather interesting. It was only then that the most basic question was brought up.

"So... What's your name?"

The teen adjusted the frame of his glasses anxiously before speaking. "It's Jake... Jake English."

Hearing the name startled Dirk so much that he jerked forward in his desk. The sudden movement startled the pens and pencils he had out, sending them tumbling over the edge onto the floor. He felt every set of eyes- even Jake's- on him. _D-damn! Think fast! I can't afford to lose my cool now!_

Rubbing at his eyes underneath his shades, he yawned. In a groggy voice, he mumbled. "I'm awake. I swear...!"

His cover-up sent the class into a fit of laughter. Mrs. Banks herself even began to chuckle at Dirk's antics. He let out his breath, relieved. _Thank God no-one was paying attention... Jesus, what the hell is he doing __here__, of all places?!_

"Well, mister English," Banks spoke up, "perhaps you can fill Rodrick in on what happened in the past half hour or so."

_Rodrick? You've gotta be kidding me... _He heard a few snickers around him and grimaced. _Why does she insist on using my real name...? It's so lame._

She motioned to the empty desk beside Dirk. "That will be your seat for now, unless you have any objections." After Jake indicated that he had none, she grinned at him as he made his way down the aisle. "Welcome to Financial Literacy- and welcome to Northgate!"

A steady buzz of noise built up in the room again as Jake sat down. He tugged his messenger bag off his shoulder, sliding out a piece of paper from its smallest pocket. Dirk watched him, intrigued as he pulled out a map of the school building and began to circle various rooms and places of importance.

_Wow, it's been a long time since I had to do that myself. _His mind wandered to his own first day at Northgate High. Wandering the halls, all alone. At one point, he had gotten lost and been twenty minutes late to his second period. Not only was the campus fairly large, it was also a labyrinth for those who hadn't memorized its contours. No wonder freshmen always hated their first semester.

An angry tapping brought his attention back to the real world. Jake was furiously clicking the end of his pen on the map, clearly frustrated. Dirk found himself highly amused at seeing him in this sort of state. Raising an eyebrow, he reached out and took a hold of the map. "Need help?"

Jake looked over, a bit startled by the stranger's kindness. "Oh... Well..."

"What do you need? I can help."

"...I was looking for the music rooms. I'm in Advanced Wind Ensemble..."

_What? Jake's a band geek? Oh, man! _Dirk had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. In fact, he also had to hold in his potent mix of emotions- confusion, anger, but most importantly, excitement. It thrilled him to finally be able to meet Jake in the flesh, but of course he had to try and keep it cool in front of his peers. The struggle proved difficult, and he had to stop and take a deep breath to calm himself several times throughout the rest of the period.

He leapt up as soon as the bell rang, shrugging his bag over his shoulders. "Hey. Jake. Where you headed?"

He glanced up at Dirk, stuffing a notebook back into his bag before rising from his seat. "Um. Trigonometry?"

"That's just down the hall. Come on."

Jake barely made it halfway down the aisle before he became distracted by the small crowd that had gathered around him. Dirk shrugged it off, continuing his route. He called out behind him, "I'm leaving now!"

After a few moments, a hand grasped his arm. "Wait for me...!" Jake fell in step next to him, keeping pace with Dirk's quick, confident strides. "Say... what's your name again, chum?"

He began to laugh as he skidded to a stop, chuckling to himself. "Man, I never thought you'd ask."

Jake looked puzzled. "What are you-"

Gently grabbing a hold of his shoulders, the blonde spoke with a smirk planted firmly on his face. "It's _me_, Jake. It's Dirk."


	2. Shock

He'd collected a multitude of nicknames over the years. Freak. Weirdo. Creep. Loser. But now, he was a freshman in high school. Things had changed, and he'd had plenty of time to recover from his early fall. Those names had been banished, left behind in the past. Now, he was Dave. Or, as anyone on the streets preferred to call him, Strider. But that was just a name. He'd yet to find an identity to match.

Of course, being raised by his older brother for most of his life, he had eventually picked up his habits. In his younger years, he used to go so far as to mimic Dirk's behaviors, trying to be an exact replica. He still had that pair of miniature, black-tinted Kamina shades sitting on the top shelf of his bookcase. Though the thought now made him smile, he remembered how hard it was to learn the truth. Being his brother would never get him anywhere. It wouldn't get him friends or money or that totally sick new game platform. The only place it would get him was nowhere.

As he blew a ring of smoke, Dave began to ponder. Who was he really? That itself was the very question that had been eating away at him for a good portion of his life... He still hadn't found the answer. Oh, sure, he knew who he wanted to be. In fact, every day he slid on a pair of shades and stepped out the door, living the dream. But he knew it was all just an act, a facade designed to fool everyone around him. That's the way it had always been.

"Hey!" A voice broke through the dim silence, calling out from nearby. "Strider!"

Dave glanced up from the ground, cigarette poking out of his mouth at an awkward angle. The street lamp behind him was the only source of light in the abandoned park. He scanned the area as best as he could in the night, peering through the thick, dark lenses of his aviators. After a bit of searching, he could just barely make out the form of someone headed in his general direction. Or rather, some_ones_.

As the figures approached, Dave scowled. "The fuck? Who the hell are these douche bags?"

A man- who'd earned the nickname "Red" over the years on the streets- grinned down at him. "They're acquaintances of mine." His pale, scarred face was haunting in the dim lamplight. Dave resisted the urge to shudder, instead focusing on the two meat-heads Red had brought with him to their rendezvous.

They were tall, towering at least a foot and a half taller than Dave. Their arm muscles were thicker than the span of his entire body. Their faces were brutal and angry. Their eyes were beady and full of malice. When one of them scowled at him, he flinched slightly. It didn't take more than one look to know that these guys were serious. He had to struggle to keep his cool temperament, as the presence of the men made him anxious and nervous.

"Got the money kid?" Red smirked, shoving a greasy, grubby paw in Dave's face. He, in return, scowled and dug for his wallet in his back pocket. As he counted out the bills and stacked them in Red's hand, his mind wandered to what he had purchased just days before... He'd never tried marijuana before, but he wanted to test it out, see just how good little miss Mary Jane could really make him feel. Just once, he had said, just one time.

He really had to stop lying to himself.

Red forked over the cash to one of his friends, who began to count it quickly. Slowly, he began to shake his head. Red nodded and turned back to Dave, the cat-like grin still stretched across his cruel face.

"Short on cash again, Strider?"

"Yeah. Look, I can't pay full right n-"

"That's what you always say." The playfulness slowly drained from Red's face. Dave flinched unconsciously. He knew what was coming.

"Look man, I-"

"I'm still waiting for the rest of you payments. I've hooked you up with cigarettes, beer, pills..." Here, he paused before continuing. "Women..."

"I can get it to y-"

"Tell me something." His eyes glinted like polished onyx in the light. "Do you know why they call me 'Red'?"

At this point, Dave began to panic. The cig dropped from his open hand, still burning, onto the ground. He swallowed hard, hands shaking. "If you give me more time, I can-"

"Sorry. Time's up." He heard a small click and saw something glint in the dealer's hand.

Dave stumbled backwards before turning and taking off down the street. Before long, Red's goons caught up to him, tackling him to the ground. Dave screamed, thrashing in their grip. The struggle went on for a minute or so, though the wrestle seemed to last an eternity. His cries were silenced when he took a sharp kick to the ribs. A hand quickly clamped itself over his mouth, further restraining his ability to breathe.

When Red's shoes stepped in front of his face, a single tear slid down his cheek. His muffled hollering ceased, replaced with small gasps. He trembled in his captors' arms, absolutely horrified. At once, a foot came down on his head, stomping down hard. His face smashed and scraped against the pavement, and he heard the sound of glass cracking as his aviators slammed into the ground.

A dull blow was dealt underneath his shoulder blade, followed by a sharp slash to the back. Dave couldn't do anything but sit and watch as scarlet liquid pooled around him, spilling from the now-burning wound in his shoulder. The pain grew in intensity with every moment, throbbing and burning. Tears poured from his eyes, spilling into the rapidly growing puddle of blood.

His vision went blurry, then fuzzy, fading in and out. When he finally came to for a short bit of time, he was alone, bleeding out on the sidewalk. Too weak to stand, he just lay there, staring down at his own body, covered in wounds. Pieces of his shattered aviators were scattered on the ground before him. A loud groan escaped his lips as he began to tremble again.

"Gonna...die..." His body was racked by sobs once more, turning hysterical with his panic. "Can't...can't breathe..."

The last thing he remembered was hearing footsteps and shouts somewhere nearby. Then everything was swallowed by darkness once more.


End file.
